


You Go Too Fast For Me

by Puellainrotis



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Depressed Crowley (Good Omens), Ficlet, Gen, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), Suicidal Thoughts, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puellainrotis/pseuds/Puellainrotis
Summary: You go to fast for me, Crowley.After Aziraphale breaks his heart, Crowley considers using his suicidal pill straight away.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	You Go Too Fast For Me

_You go too fast for me, Crowley._

The words were echoing in his consciousness, bouncing back and forth since the moment they left Aziraphale’s mouth in the car, and he couldn’t do anything to stop them. To silence them. To erase them.

“Too fast...” he snorted scornfully. “Six thousand fucking years, angel!”

Each word was spat out separately, like there was supposed to be a period between them. Despite the anger in them, Crowley’s voice broke at the last one and he felt the tears in his eyes finally overflowing. He didn’t even raise his hand to wipe the salty drops away.

The demon was sitting on the floor with knees under his chin and the tartan thermos with holy water next to him.

His wings materialised and he wrapped the black feathers around his body as if he was trying to hug himself.

“Go for a picnic one day,” the being whispered, broken.

As if there hadn’t been millions of days already. When will the 'one day' Aziraphale was waiting for come? Will they survive long enough? Will Crowley?

Does Crowley even want to survive that long?

He was a demon. He never wanted to be a demon. What's more, he was bad at it. Hastur and Dagon often mocked him for not being a proper demon anyway.

Then, there was the thing about fraternizing with the enemy. He was friends with an angel. Hell for sure would not appreciate that.

And it gets worse, he thought with a dark chuckle.

He was in love with said angel.

Not that it changed anything, anyway. Because the feeling obviously wasn’t mutual, as Aziraphale expressed today.

_You go too fast for me._

Crowley was sure that this sentence would haunt him for the rest of his damned life.

He looked at the flask, his death within reach. What was even the point of his life?

Hell could find out about his relations at any moment and that would not be pleasant, he was sure. Way worse than a splash of holy water. Moreover, they could hurt Aziraphale as well. He shuddered at the thought of what hellfire could do to his... not his, Crowley bitterly corrected himself, angel.

He reached for the thermos, placed it on his knee and gave it a long, teary stare of his serpentine eyes. The embrace of his wings tightened around him. It was a ridiculous parody of a hug, really.

What exactly was he waiting for?

For Hell to come to destroy him? Nobody there would even blink an eye at getting rid of the pathetic excuse for a demon that he was. Or for Aziraphale to fall into his arms and finally confess his burning love for the serpent? The angel had millennia to do that. It wasn’t happening, Crowley forced himself to accept the harsh truth.

“You’re the real deal, eh?” Crowley whispered towards the flask. Would kill me in a second, he added in his thoughts but stopped talking aloud to an inanimate object.

Just a drop would be enough. So easy.

And honestly, why shouldn’t he do it? What’s holding him?

The angel is probably perfectly fine in his flat above the bookshop now, and Crowley?

He's a mess, clutching a disgustingly tartan thermos that only reminds him of how the one he loves rejected him, and he is wallowing in self pity. He is a hopeless case, really.

He gave the thermos another dirty look.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t unscrew the cap,” he dared it.

It remained silent – thank Somebody! – but as he gazed at the flask in its tartan glory, he realised that he just couldn’t do it because of Aziraphale.

“Fine!” he snarled and went to bed.

When he woke up two weeks later, he felt better. Almost like Aziraphale didn’t break his heart into pieces the night he gave him his suicidal pill with that one sentence that would haunt him forever.

_You go too fast for me, Crowley._

**Author's Note:**

> Betaread by [Raechem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raechem/profile)


End file.
